


are you mad at me?

by almostafantasia



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Missing scene from 2x07, drunk Nicole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 14:51:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11580312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostafantasia/pseuds/almostafantasia
Summary: Wayhaught ficlet. Waverly drives a drunk Nicole back to the homestead after the strip joint incident.





	are you mad at me?

It takes all three of them to get the revenant into the trunk of the cop car. Or rather, it takes both of the Earp sisters – Waverly hooks her arms under his armpits while Wynonna hoists up his legs – while Nicole, who can barely keep _herself_ upright, rests her hand on the guy’s knee and does a spectacular job of pretending to help while actually getting in the way.

When he’s locked inside the trunk, Wynonna takes the driver’s seat of Nicole’s car, while Nicole insists on taking the passenger seat in Waverly’s red jeep. Waverly doesn’t protest. She reckons that Wynonna’s patience wouldn’t be able to endure an entire car journey with the company of the drunkenly babbling redhead on a good day, let alone after locking the potential father of her unborn child in the trunk of a cop car, so Waverly helps Nicole into her own passenger seat without a complaint and promises Wynonna that she’ll be right behind her the whole way back to the homestead.

They’ve been driving for about thirty seconds when Nicole’s voice pipes up, words slurred and her tone pathetically sad.

“You said I was in trouble,” she whines. “Are you mad at me?”

Waverly considers the question. It’s been a stressful day for them all – business as usual in Purgatory – and sure, Waverly was a little bit pissed when Nicole hung up on her earlier, forcing her to travel to every strip club in the area to search for the two other women without any way of getting in touch with them, but Waverly isn’t actually annoyed at either of them anymore.

“No, not mad.”

In a voice that is almost impossibly more mournful than before, Nicole asks, “Disappointed?”

“No,” Waverly answers with a sigh. She isn’t sure what the right word is to describe how she’s feeling right now but mad and disappointed aren’t it.

Nicole stays silent for a few seconds before, apparently forgetting that she’s already asked this, she asks again, “Mad?”

“Baby, shhh,” says Waverly, reaching across the control panel in the middle of the jeep to rest a comforting hand on her girlfriend’s knee, while keeping both eyes on the rear taillights of the cop car on the road ahead of her. “I’m not mad at you. When I said that you were in trouble I was just worried about Wynonna. I’d been trying to track you down for ages without being able to contact you because your phone was off.”

“Wynonna drowned it in beer,” Nicole informs her.

“Wynonna did what?” Waverly questions, though she immediately knows that this is what must have actually happened, both because she knows that Nicole, especially a _drunk_ Nicole, would never lie to her, and because dropping somebody else’s phone in a glass of beer to stop a meddling sister from finding out where she is sounds _exactly_ like something that Wynonna would do. “Never mind. I’ll deal with her later.”

Waverly rolls her eyes as she considers her sister’s antics, pausing the conversation to concentrate as they reach a red light at an intersection. When the lights turn green and Wynonna starts to pull forward in the car in front of them, Waverly returns some of her attention to Nicole and continues speaking.

“I’m not mad,” Waverly repeats reassuringly. “When I asked you to keep an eye on her I wasn’t exactly expecting the pair of you to go chasing down her baby daddy in a strip…” Waverly trails off, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Nicole’s head is starting to droop with the onset of sleepiness and that anything she says now probably won’t be remembered by Nicole later. “You know what? We’ll have this conversation later.”

“Waves,” Nicole says, suddenly perking up as she speaks with a voice that is much too loud for a conversation between two people sitting next to each other in the confines of a small vehicle. “I swear nothing happened. I didn’t even _look_ at a stripper…”

“Shhh,” Waverly hushes, reaching out again to brush her fingers and Nicole’s briefly, before she returns them to the steering wheel. “I know.”

“ _You’re_ the only girl I want to strip for me.”

“I am flattered, truly,” says Waverly, chuckling softly under her breath. She makes a mental note to remind Nicole later that she said that, partly because she knows that Nicole will fluster in embarrassment at making such a comment and partly because Waverly is certain that she’ll be able to have a bit of fun with it. For now, however, it’s not relevant. “Now why don’t you take a look in the glove box. There should be a bottle of water in there. I want it all gone by the time we make it back to the homestead, you got that?”

Nicole reaches forward obediently, fumbling with the catch on the glove box before she finally pops it open on the fourth try. Sure enough, there’s a bottle of water in there (for emergencies – Waverly is a _planner_ , after all) and Nicole takes it out and unscrews the cap before tipping almost a third of its contents down her throat in one go. Waverly takes her eyes off the road for just a second to glance across at Nicole, smiling amusedly at the way that a tiny trickle of water dribbles down her girlfriend’s chin from where she missed her own mouth with the bottle.

They continue the journey in silence. Waverly half expects Nicole, who seems to be a talkative drunk, to keep asking more questions, which she doesn’t think she would mind too much. Drunk Nicole is pretty damn cute, after all. But the passenger side of the car falls oddly still. So still, in fact, that Waverly is almost convinced that Nicole must have nodded off in the passenger seat until, just as the homestead comes into view on the horizon, Waverly hears a choked sob rise up from beside her.

“Baby,” she says, turning her head to the side and reaching out with her hand to rest it on Nicole’s leg again, noticing a single tear slowly roll down one of Nicole’s flushed cheeks. “What’s the matter?”

“Waverly,” sniffles Nicole, rubbing the tears away from her own eye, before placing the same damp hands over Waverly’s and squeezing her fingers tightly. She looks across at Waverly with those big brown eyes wide with sadness as she continues, “Please don’t become a stripper.”

Waverly almost has to laugh at how silly it is, how Nicole is crying over something so ridiculously unsubstantiated, but she manages to hold back when she sees how genuinely sad the look in Nicole’s eyes is and gives Nicole’s fingers a reassuring squeeze of her own.

“Not even thinking about it, sweetie.”


End file.
